


A rainy day on October 21st

by ButanolMusket (EthanolMusket)



Category: Magi: The Labyrinth of Magic
Genre: Gore, M/M, Psychological Terror, but i have an idea so bear with me, this is confusing i'm sorry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-10
Updated: 2017-09-10
Packaged: 2018-12-26 00:40:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12047703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EthanolMusket/pseuds/ButanolMusket
Summary: Time is merciless, ephemeral and unforgiving. The greatest of palaces, the most beautiful works of art, cities, bridges, memories, people… everything succumbs to time. Even his sanity, he clings to it holding a small, pale hand from his lover who lies steady on the bed, his snow white skin slowly turning into a grayish tone; his once sparkling red eyes are dull and somber, his plump, rosy lips pale as a gray morning.





	A rainy day on October 21st

**Author's Note:**

> This chapter depicts graphic violence and gore, read if you will.

_October 22nd_

Time is merciless, ephemeral and unforgiving. The greatest of palaces, the most beautiful works of art, cities, bridges, memories, people… everything succumbs to time. Even his sanity, he clings to it holding a small, pale hand from his lover who lies steady on the bed, his snow white skin slowly turning into a grayish tone; his once sparkling red eyes are dull and somber, his plump, rosy lips pale as a gray morning.

Sinbad’s golden eyes dart away from the lifeless corpse on the bed, confused, looking for a bottle of scotch long forgotten in the floor a week ago. He gulps the remaining liquid and looks at the bottle in his hand before smashing it in the wall, burying his face in his hands to muffle an anguished scream.

It was not supposed to happen like this, this isn’t how it should have gone. He was supposed to be free now but he felt lost and more trapped than ever. And worst of all, Judal was gone, nothing would bring him back to him. He wouldn´t see him smile nor hear him laugh with his voice ringing like pleasant bells or cry with his eyes shining like fire opals.

“Why are you crying, Sinbad?” a soft voice interrupted his gross sobbing, as the older man rubbed the hot tears from his face, not daring to turn around.

“Because you are dead” he whispered.

“There is no need to cry, there there...” he felt a soft hand rubbing his shoulder comfortingly, he hiccupped and started breathing deeply, each breath of air made his body loose, relaxing at the soothing feeling.

“That’s better… now, why Sinbad? Why did you kill me?” the sing sung voice pierced his ears.

“I didn’t!” he replied in a loud, hoarse voice, covering his face with both of his hands. “This is not my fault! How dare you even imply that?! I…what else could I have done?!”

“Are you happy, Sinbad? Now that I’m dead, do you somehow feel accomplished?” he could feel slim fingers playing with his scalp and hair now; thin, cold, hard fingers running down his tresses, sending shivers through all his shaking body.

“This is the last thing I wanted! This is all your fault!” Sinbad growled and turned around only to find the lifeless corpse still and cold in the bed, half lidded eyes fixed at the ceiling, in the same position it had been since yesterday. Golden eyes widened as saucers as he held his head, was he losing his mind? He was not even a shadow of what he used to be, bold, vibrant, successful, confident... he didn’t recognize himself anymore and the tears running down his face refused to stop.

“Aww what’s wrong? Why are you so scared of little dead me?” Judal’s voice thundered through his head, his laughter like shattering glass instead of bells, his eyes pitch black instead of ruby tinted.

The man wailed, grabbing the broken bottle and stabbing the corpse over and over, blood spilling like rain over the old sheets, the already stained walls, over his bronze skin, over his soul. Every time he striked, his vision became blurrier and blurrier, every passing second made his head dizzier, and suddenly he started sinking, the floor became like quicksand, his body half buried, snapping him out of his rage trance, trying to pull himself out frantically but every struggle and movement just made him sink deeper.

As the quicksand was already at his chin level, he managed to hold the bed’s corner, knuckles going white out of the sheer force he was using, trying to pull himself up. A cold hand grabbed his wrist suddenly, and when Sinbad’s eyes found the owner of said hand, he howled in terror, letting go of the only thing that kept him from sinking, everything turning black, the last image in his head was that of a disfigured, bleeding Judal, with one crimson orb burning into his mind. Sinking into nothingness did not sound like so much of a bad idea anymore.

He was sinking, drowning, dying. The pressure in his chest was almost unbearable and the beating of his heart ricocheted in his head so loudly he just wanted everything to stop.

_“…ad!”_

If only he could go back, why did he ever killed him? Judal was right, he had been right all along...

_“…nbad!”_

It was all his fault, being in denial had just worsened things, had severed that bond, had tore them apart like this...

_“…inbad!”_

If he had only listened, if he had only been true to his fucking feelings instead of his reasoning, then none of this would’ve happened, then he would not have strangled his lover to death, nor stabbed his face repeatedly with the broken whisky bottle, emptying one of those striking red eyes in the process, destroying what he had possibly loved the most, running everything…

_“Sinbad!”_

 

 

  Golden eyes snapped open, taking in gulps of fresh air and sitting on the bed, sweat beads rolled down his face, his hands were shaking and clutching the sheets tightly. The darkness was replaced by light and a warm breeze, a scent of lavender and sea ran in through a window, the rustling sounds of the palm leaves matched perfectly in the comfortable scene.

“Where...” he looked around this new place, golden decorations hung from the walls, striking carpets with intricate designs decorated the marble floor, vases with colorful feathers adorned the corners of the room. He had never seen such a majestic place before.

“Are you ok? You were screaming in your sleep”

Golden eyes turned to his side and widened when he saw a pair of worried crimson eyes staring back. Judal placed his hand on Sinbad’s forehead with a light slap and concerned eyebrows.

“Huh, there’s no fever, strange...your eyes are quite teary and red so I thought-” before the young man could finish, a pair of strong arms pulled him into an embrace, Sinbad’s face burrowed safely on the crevice between his neck and shoulder. Judal was surprised, but he held the other back tightly when he felt hot tears on his clavicle.

“Hey...Sinbad...” he continued, his voice soft as the breeze, his hands running down his back.

“A nightmare...it was just a bad nightmare...but it’s over...and you are here with me...right? You are here with me forever?”

He couldn’t see Judal’s expression, he didn’t want to see it, he couldn’t see his face yet, not after that, not even after Judal’s reassuring words and light kisses on his head. They spent an hour like that, close together, nothing else mattered, he could hear Judal’s heartbeat and it was like the sweetest lullaby that had ever existed.

“Ah...it felt so real...”

“It’s over now, Sin, whatever your nightmare was, just forget about it and focus on us...you stupid king should cut on the alcohol...”

Sinbad chuckled sheepishly. “You know I love whisky...I couldn’t help it”

He could’ve sworn Judal’s kind expression vanished for a second and morphed into something he couldn’t quite understand, his pale hand raised and tugged on Sinbad’s earring just enough for the golden eyed man to gasp.

“Stupid king you even forgot, you love wine, whisky is gross, I won’t kiss you if you drink that”

Ah, it was that. For a moment he could’ve sworn something wasn’t right. But slowly, the memories of his kingdom sprouted in his head, of Sindria, his generals and his lover and magi, Judal.

“Wine… you’re right, I got some strange amnesia from that nightmare, weird”

“Yeah, just forget it. Come on, we promised Freckles we would help him out today with that damn paperwork”

Sinbad laughed wholeheartedly.

“You just hate paperwork, huh?”

“It’s dumb, but the faster we start, the sooner we finish!” he grabbed the king’s hand and pulled him cheerily to the door and down the hall.

It had been nothing but a bad nightmare, and he was eternally grateful for that. Even though he could’ve sworn there was fear in the magi’s eyes, even if for a fleeting moment.

 


End file.
